CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Avery
W
hen I finally drift up from the deepest sleep I’ve had in what feels like forever, it’s like waking in another world—one where peace exists, where warmth isn’t just from blankets, but from love and safety. For the first time in months, I wasn’t haunted by shadows or jerked awake by nightmares. There was no panic, no cold sweat clinging to my skin. Just... rest.
The room is dim, bathed in the soft glow of early morning sunlight filtering through the blinds. It’s quiet—peaceful—and the weight of being surrounded by my people sinks in like a warm embrace. My heart swells, stretching against the ache of trauma, soaking in this moment like it’s sacred.
My eyes drift across the room, and I find all of them here. My warriors. My heartbeats.
Dad is slouched in a wide leather armchair by the window, his arms crossed tightly over his chest like he’s guarding something precious. His head tilts to the side, his mouth slightly open, and one of his boots is still halfway unlaced, like he couldn’t quite make himself settle in. His face looks softer in sleep, younger somehow—less weathered by pain.
Kamden is on a folding cot near the bathroom, his legs hanging off the edge because the damn thing is too short for his tall frame. One hand rests on his chest, the other draped off the side, fingers twitching slightly like he’s still ready to spring into action at the slightest sound.
Liam is half-curled in a recliner, arms crossed behind his head, his feet bare and propped up on the armrest. A half-empty bottle of water is tucked between his thigh and the cushion, as if he was mid-sip before sleep dragged him under. Even like this—relaxed and rumpled—he looks protective, like he’s dreaming about shielding me from everything that’s ever hurt me.
Lennox is stretched out on a loveseat with a throw blanket pulled over his head like a cocoon, only his socked feet sticking out. One of his arms dangles off the side, his hand close to the floor like he was reaching for something before he passed out.
And then there’s Jaxton.
He’s the closest—sitting in the chair pulled up tight to my bed, head resting on his folded arms beside me. One hand is curled around mine like he never let go. His dark blond hair is tousled, and his lashes cast long shadows on his cheeks. He looks exhausted, but still beautiful in that effortless, soul-striking way he always does. I move just slightly—nothing more than a soft shift of my hips beneath the blankets—and his eyes snap open.
“Kitten?” His voice is hoarse with sleep, his head lifting fast, panic flashing through his expression as his gaze sweeps the bed like he expects me to be gone.
“I’m here,” I whisper, squeezing his hand.
Relief crashes across his face like a tidal wave, washing away the panic. “God, you scared me,” he breathes, sitting up straighter and brushing a hand through his messy hair. “You moved. I thought—” He doesn’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t have to.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say, my voice barely louder than a breath, but it’s enough. His shoulders drop a fraction, his grip on my hand tightening just slightly.
I let my gaze drift over all of them again, curled up in their awkward positions, having refused to leave. My heart tugs with so much love it hurts.
Jaxton’s fingers trace slow, tender circles along the back of my hand, each loop more soothing than the last. The silence between us isn’t awkward—it’s full. Full of emotion, history, fear, relief… love. The kind of quiet that only comes after surviving hell and still somehow finding something worth holding on to.
We’re both staring at my belly like it holds the answers to everything we’ve been through. A visible, undeniable reminder that life never stopped for me—even when I was locked away, even when it felt like my soul had been swallowed whole. This bump, this little growing being inside me, is proof that something good came out of the nightmare.
“Do you think the baby knows how much we care?” I ask quietly, not taking my eyes off the gentle rise of my stomach.
Jaxton doesn’t answer at first. He just smiles—a soft, lopsided, heart-melting thing—and shifts closer, brushing his knuckles across the curve of my bump.
“Baby bean knows,” he murmurs, voice hushed with awe. “This baby… they’ve felt every bit of your strength. Every time your heart kept beating, they knew. Every breath you took, every whisper you made… they held on because you did.”
My heart clenches at his words. The lump forming in my throat is thick with unshed tears, and I blink up at him, overwhelmed by how deeply he loves us.
“I can’t believe we get this,” he continues, leaning down to kiss the swell of my belly. “After everything… we still get this. A future. A family. You. Them.”
His lips graze the fabric of my hospital gown, but I feel the warmth of them in my soul.
“I already love this baby so much it hurts,” he admits softly. “I’m going to teach them everything I know. How to be strong. How to stand back up when life hits hard. How to fight for what matters. But mostly… how to love like you do. Fierce and full and without apology.”
A laugh bubbles up from my chest, fragile but real. “You sure you’re not going to teach them how to be dramatic and bossy?”
His grin turns devilish. “Oh, we’ll get there.”
I chuckle and feel the familiar flutter from inside—like our little bean is laughing right along with us.
“We’re going to have the best life,” I whisper.
“With the best mom,” Jaxton replies, eyes locked on mine with a look that makes the world disappear.
I don’t realize I’m crying until he’s brushing away the tears, a thumb sweeping gently over my cheek.
“Okay,” he says, tone shifting with the unmistakable glint of mischief in his eyes, “since we’re being all emotional and sentimental, I feel like it’s only fair that I bring something else to the table.”
I raise an eyebrow, already suspicious. “Oh?”
Jaxton leans back in his chair, lacing our fingers together. “I just think, and this is purely a biological observation, that it’s probably my kid, because—well—superior swimmers.”
I blink. Then smirk. “Oh, we’re doing that now?”
He shrugs, utterly unapologetic. “What can I say? Science.”
“Oh yeah?” I tease, resting my hand on the swell of my belly. “Pretty sure Liam would like a word.”
“Damn right I’ve got something to say,” Laim fire back, groggily. “My guys gave yours a run for their money—don’t count them out just yet. But then again, it’s not twins… and I know mine will come through with two. So yeah, maybe this one is yours.”
Jaxton barely glances over his shoulder. “He can talk all he wants, Kitten, but I’ve got Hollywood-grade genetics. That baby’s got charm literally written into their DNA.”
“You both are ridiculous,” I say through a smile, the warmth in my chest spreading like sunlight through frost.
Jaxton leans in closer, brushing a soft kiss to my temple. “Maybe. But ridiculous or not, this baby’s gonna be a heartbreaker.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Or they’ll have my stubborn streak and scare off everyone.”
Liam laughs. “Then they’ll be unstoppable.”
Jaxton’s teasing melts into something softer, more serious. His hand settles on my bump, fingers splayed wide with reverence. “Kidding aside… I don’t care whose DNA did the heavy lifting. This baby is ours. Yours. Mine. Theirs. All of us. And I’m honored as hell to raise them with you.” His voice thickens, and his next words are barely more than a whisper. “I can’t wait to see you with them. I already know you’re going to be the best mom.”
My heart twists with emotion. His words hit deeper than I expect, breaking open something inside me I didn’t realize I’d been holding so tightly.
But before I can respond, a groggy groan rumbles from across the room.
“Are you two seriously already fighting over baby daddy rights?” Lennox mutters, voice raspy with sleep. His bedhead is a full-on explosion, like he battled a hurricane in his dreams and barely survived.
“I’m not fighting,” Jaxton replies smoothly, sitting back down, and kicking his feet up like a smug villain in a rom-com. “I’m stating facts.”
“You’re stating bullshit, ” Liam grumbles, his voice muffled under the arm he’s thrown across his face like the light personally offended him. “You’re about to get paternity tested into humility. ”
Kamden stretches by the window, spine popping loud enough to make me wince. “If I had a dollar for every time Jaxton talked out of his ass, we could’ve bought our own island by now. Raised the baby with chickens and coconut trees.”
Jaxton shrugs, completely unfazed. “Jealousy is so loud in the morning.”
From the recliner in the corner, my dad lets out a warm chuckle. “As long as someone’s on diaper duty—and it’s not me—I don’t care who wins the title. I’ll love that baby no matter what. But I’m not touching a blowout. That’s where I draw the line.”
I glance around at all of them—my guys, my dad—scattered around the room in various states of sleepy disarray. Their banter wraps around me like a blanket, warm and familiar, making the sterile hospital room feel more like home than anywhere I’ve been in months. Their voices, their laughter… this is what I missed the most. Not just feeling safe—but feeling surrounded.
Kam scratches the back of his neck. “Any word on discharge?”
“They said probably this morning,” I answer, stretching carefully under the hospital blanket. “Doctor still has to give the final okay.”
Liam walks over and drops a kiss to the top of my head. “The sooner we get you home, the better.”
“To our home,” Jaxton adds smugly. “We’ve been living there for months now. It’s technically more ours than yours.”
“You wish, ” I shoot back, narrowing my eyes in mock offense.
Lennox grins, that familiar mischief in his eyes. “Don’t freak out.”
I freeze. “What. Did. You. Do?”
“Upgrades,” he says cryptically. “Just… enhancements.”
“Enhancements?” I narrow my eyes further, suspicion growing.
Jaxton leans in, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Let’s just say your dream garden may have gotten the VIP treatment.”
My mouth opens, then closes. I blink hard, willing the tears not to spill. “You guys…”
“Don’t cry,” Kamden warns, stepping up with a fresh bottle of water. “You’ll make us all cry, and then it’s just full-blown chaos.”
“We are chaos,” I say, voice shaking with laughter and emotion. “But it’s the best kind of chaos. The kind I never want to live without.”
Their smiles mirror mine—worn, exhausted, but full of hope.
The doctor knocks gently before pushing open the door with a bright, reassuring smile. “Good morning, Miss Dawson,” he says, clipboard in hand. “How are we feeling today?”
I adjust slightly in bed, the pressure in my back a subtle reminder that my body’s still recovering. “Sore, but ready to go home,” I answer honestly.
He nods in approval before glancing at the room full of testosterone surrounding me. “And who’s taking her home? She’ll need someone to help out for a little while.”
Dad steps forward without hesitation, his voice strong and sure. “We’ve got her covered. Whatever she needs, we’re there.”
The doctor smiles, clearly reassured. “Good to hear. I’ll get her discharge paperwork started.” He exits with a polite nod, leaving the room buzzing with quiet anticipation.
A short while later, he returns with a folder and two prescription slips, handing them off to Kamden. “Okay,” the doctor begins, his voice professional and calm, “we’ve got two medications. One is an antibiotic—she’ll take that twice daily, morning and night. The other is a mild pain reliever. It’s safe for the baby, and only to be taken as needed.”
He finally turns his focus on me. “Any questions, Avery?”
I hesitate for a moment, my mind still reeling with the fact that Sarah is out there—free. “No… I think we’re good.”
“We’ll reach out if there are any issues,” Kamden says, already skimming the instructions.
“Perfect.” The doctor claps the folder shut. “You’re free to go. Take your time getting dressed, and good luck, Avery.”
“Thank you,” Jaxton says, offering a firm handshake before turning to me with a soft smile. “You ready to get out of here, Kitten?”
“Yes, please.” I shuffle to the edge of the bed and let my toes brush the cold tile floor. The shift in weight makes the paper-thin gown gape in the back, and I groan. “This gown is a crime against fashion. Look away unless you want to see way more Dawson than you bargained for.”
Dad chuckles, leaning in to kiss my forehead. “Darling, I’ll be in the lobby. Let these guys help you get sorted without old Dad in the way.”
Once the door closes behind him, Lennox leans in with a crooked grin. “We don’t mind the view.” He winks as he sets my clothes out on the edge of the bed. “Think you can stand so we can get this torture device off you?”
“Yeah.” I nod and slowly rise. The absence of the chain that had bound me for months is like a breath of fresh air—silent, free, liberating. For the first time in forever, I stand not as a prisoner, but as a survivor about to step into a future I fought tooth and nail to reclaim.
When the hospital gown slips from my shoulders and pools at my feet, there’s a beat of stillness in the room. My guys freeze—every single one of them—eyes drinking in every inch of me like they’re seeing me for the first time all over again. Their stares are reverent, but that doesn’t stop insecurity from slithering in.
I’m not the same woman they last saw without clothes. My body’s changed—evidence of our baby curves boldly from my belly, my hips have widened, my breasts heavier, fuller. Faint purple and yellow bruises still dot my ribs like a haunting map, and a thick bandage wraps my ankle. My face, while mostly healed, still shows the aftermath of Sarah’s elbow—though less damage than I expected, considering how much it hurt.
I sit back down and reach for the sheet, instinctively wanting to cover myself, but Lennox gently stops me, his fingers brushing mine. He kneels before me like I’m a queen and lifts his gaze to mine—those stunning emerald eyes soft and unwavering.
His touch is tender as he lifts each foot and guides it into soft, silky leggings. Once both legs are in, he rises slowly, steadying me with an arm around my waist, and slides the fabric up my thighs and over my hips—no panties, just the feel of soft clothes against my skin for the first time in what feels like forever.
Once I’m seated again, he slips a loose cotton shirt over my head, adjusting it carefully so it drapes just right.
“Thank you,” I murmur, emotion bubbling under the surface. Something about having real clothes again, ones that aren’t hospital-issued or picked by a psychopath, makes me feel more human. More whole.
Kamden steps in next, leaning down to kiss the top of my head. “Let’s get you out of here so you can take a proper nap.”
“That sounds amazing.” I sigh. “I still can’t believe they’re actually letting me go. Part of me keeps waiting for someone to barge in and say I have to stay another night.”
Jaxton smirks as he crouches next to me. “They were compensated very well to make sure you were cleared to leave today—or to give us a damn wing to ourselves. There was no version of reality where I was going to be separated from you again.”
My eyes snap to his, the weight of his words hitting me square in the chest. “Wait… did you pay off the hospital?”
“Not exactly,” he says with a smug grin that’s far too charming for its own good. “If you had needed longer-term care, we would’ve moved you somewhere private. But you and our baby are doing well, so I figured you’d rather be with us than stuck here.”
I shake my head in disbelief, heart aching and swelling at the same time. “I love you,” I whisper, turning to meet each of their eyes in turn. “I love all of you.”
The words settle over the room like a soft blanket. Each of them answers in their own way—some with words, others with a look, a touch, a nod—but all full of the same unshakable emotion.
Kamden helps me into the wheelchair the hospital requires for discharge, carefully gathering the folder of instructions and prescriptions before we make our way toward the lobby.
Dad’s already waiting, a hopeful gleam in his tired eyes.
“Any trouble?” he asks, scanning the group but landing on Kam for the answer.
Kam shakes his head. “Smooth sailing.”
“Good.” Dad steps closer and squeezes my shoulder. “Darling, I already called Roman to let him know you were safe and recovering—but he’s about to stage a full-scale hospital invasion if you don’t call him soon to confirm you’re alive… and pregnant.”
A real, genuine laugh bubbles out of me. “Sounds about right. I’ll call once we get settled at the hotel.”
Behind me, Liam chuckles. “That’s assuming you don’t pass out before we get there. If you do, we’ll give them the update and schedule visiting hours.”
“Sounds good,” I mumble, yawning so wide it practically cracks my jaw. Truth is, I don’t want to deal with anything else right now. No outside world, no headlines, no threats.
I just want to be with my guys, close to my dad, in a quiet room where I can feel safe. Where I can just be.